The Glorious Misadventures of Teen Avengers
by Loki'sarmyintheTARDIS
Summary: They never thought it would end like this. This is the story of a jock, a rebel, a nerd, a playboy, a prankster, a punk, and what started out that one awkward night in Bucky's basement. Highschool AU/ College AU. Fluff/Angst. M for smutt and future violence. The same fic can be found on AO3, as well.


They never thought it would end like this. This is the story of a jock, a rebel, a nerd, a playboy, a prankster, a punk, and an awkward night in Bucky's basement.

It all started as a joke, one random comment made by Clint, a stupid offhanded remark of "hey guys we should have a sleepover!" They should have ignored him, but Tony was still moping over Peppers rejection and none of them had the heart to say no to Tony starks puppy dog face, so on the night of their senior prom, everyone decided to pack into Bucky's living room to watch some shitty horror movies.

But first, they had a late dinner at Denny's, where, of course, Pepper Potts was with her friends and prom date. They had managed to find any empty space where Tony and Pepper were out of each others sight, so it wasn't as awkward as it could have been. It was quiet and empty at night with the occasion of a few others in the dining room, the cooks, and waiters and waitresses. They were all squeezed together on the booth with their milkshakes and hamburgers, without that much to say to each other. Nat and Clint sat together talking about their recent trip to Budapest with their families. It was actually quite surprising that Clint wanted to tag along with everyone. All he really did was watch Desperate Housewives while eating Captain Crunch. Clint didn't even respond to everyone's request to come. He just showed up ten minutes at Denny's before anyone was there.

Sam was trying to make Tony feel better after being rejected by Pepper, by saying 'You don't need her', 'She was no good anyway', and so forth. Sam was a good friend like that, and was really the only person in the group who really knew how to comfort people.

Bucky was next to Steve as usual, as if the punk with the piercing and the tattoo's had something for the little guy. All of his rage that fit into the body of a nerd . Hell, he even told Thor, the jackass of the football team to 'politely fuck off' when Steve had obviously lost the fist fight against him, and then proceed to give him a black eye.

"What the hell did you do this time?" He asked walking toward him.

"That jackass Thor was at it again. Picking on the little guys, and I tried to stop him." Steve had explained, as Bucky handed him his ice pack from his lunch pail. Steve took it and pressed it up against his eye.

"C'mon." Bucky said putting his arm around Steve, like he had for the hundredth time it seemed. "Let me stitch you back up." Steve walks next to Bucky as he walks him away from the school, and to the bleachers of the football field to stitch him back up. "And remember the next time that you need me, I'm just a phone call away 'cause-"

"I'm with you 'till the end of the line." Steve says through his bruised lip. Bucky looks down at Steve as they continue to walk, and smiles.

"Yeah."

Bucky rubbed his hands together and his pupils widened as basket of steaming hot french fries was placed in front of him. He glanced around him for a second, as if he was looking for something. Steve looked up at the sound of Bucky calling him by his nickname 'Stevie'.

"Yes?" He responded

"Can you pass me the ketchup." Bucky pointed to the glass bottle at the end of the table.

"Uh-uhm." He passed the bottle to Bucky's waiting open hand. He watched as he created a space specific for the sauce, and poured a decent amount into the empty space. He opened his mouth, wanting to say something, and then closed it like he was still trying to think of what to say.

"C-can I have a few, Buck?"

Bucky turned to him as he was just finishing of a fry.

"Sure." He nodded, and Steve reached out to grab a few, only to be stopped by Bucky. "Only if I can have some of your milkshake, though."

"Sure." He said, pushing his glass across the table in front of Bucky. Bucky then took a few fries with the tips of his fingers and dipped them into the chocolate shake. Steve looked absolutely mortified.

"What are you doing?" He questioned, crinkling his face in disgust.

"What?"

"You're gross." Steve looked up at him and pushed his glasses back, and Bucky swallowed, staring him down.

"Happy?"

"Yes…"

"Very well then." He took another fry, and dipped it into the shake again only to piss his friend off. Steve stared at Bucky angrily, and then turned back to his hamburger that now was cold and distasteful. He glanced at Bucky's plate, and took his fries, and even dipped them into his milkshake.

"Good, right?" Bucky said after cramming a fry into his mouth.

Not wanting to give him the satisfaction of being right, Steve shrugs and sighs. "It was okay. Not as good as I thought it would be, though."

Bucky laughed, shaking his head. "Whatever you say, Stevie."

Neither of them payed enough attention to anyone else to notice that everyone had stopped and stared.

Bucky and Steve ended up sharing the chocolate shake because Bucky spent his last few dollars on the basket of fries, and Steve insisted that they share. Bucky complied, and they shared their fries and shake like this was some cliche chick-flick or something.

They talked about plans they had after finishing high school, and the things they wanted to accomplish. Bucky wanted to join the army or air force. Something like that. Steve decided that he wanted to go to art school and become an artist. Although, that was not what Steve really wanted to do. He had always wanted to become a member of the army for as long as he could remember, but he knew he couldn't because his skinny little body never worked right. He had asthma, was partially deaf, and needed glasses to see. The reason he wanted to be an artist was because he thought that maybe he could do something to make the childhood of underprivileged kids better than his was. He had already applied to several schools, like Cambridge, Cornell, Oxford, and Dartmouth, and was eagerly waiting a response. Everyone knew that Tony was going to take after his father by becoming an electrical engineer, and that he was going to become very successful and rich by the time he turns twenty. They also knew that Nat and Clint were going to be spies someday, because they were so goddamn quiet, but somehow knew everything there was to know about a person. It was likely that Sam would join the army like Bucky.

Steve eventually bought another basket of fries, and a milkshake when Bucky had asked him to. As soon as the shake was placed in front of him, Bucky picked the cherry of the whipped-cream, and put it in his mouth, Steve hitting and shoving him as he did so.

"What, are we having a seduction contest now?" Asked tony, looking over to see Steve licking the milkshake off his straw. Soon the whole table was absorbed in the game. Much to everyone's surprise, Clint won hands down, leaving more than one person hot and bothered and Sam needing to 'use the restroom', and left to do obviously more than that.

"I can take care of that later!" Clint called after Sam, speaking for the first time that night. The two had never really met before that night, but Nat and Tony were already making bets on how long it would take one of them to make a move. Sliding Nat a ten across the table, Tony muttered,

"I said before tomorrow morning."

"And i said before we leave." Nat replied smoothly, as Clint curled up and finished his milkshake like a normal person. Bucky grinned as he spooned little slurps of steves milkshake, and the blond rolled his eyes.

"Why do you keep doing that, Buck!" Steve playfully punched his arm. Bucky only smiled with a guilty grin that he really only gives Steve. He stared angrily up at him until Bucky passed him his few remaining fries.

"Here, you can have the rest. I'm fine with just drinking my vanilla coke." He moved the straw around in the glass, pushing the ice down, only to have it float back up. Steve can't help but stare at him, and he can start to feel butterflies swarming around in his stomach.

"I hoped you guys saved room for dessert." Tony says, as he pushes his plate away from himself.

"Oh," Bucky says, stretching out his arm around Steve's shoulders, bringing his head into his chest, and Steve braces himself by putting his hand across Bucky's stomach. "I think Steve and I can manage without dessert." He balls his hand into a fist, and gives Steve a noogie. Steve felt Bucky chuckle more than he heard it, and he stalled his movements, shocked when Bucky leaned into the touch. Steve felt the firm muscle above him and under his arm, and tried to look at anything around him to keep himself from blushing. He'd never touched another person like that.

When Bucky let Steve go, Steve sat up and puts his glasses back to their proper place, and parted his hair so that everything was aligned again. Everyone then breaks into a conversation with each other, not just with the person seated next to them. Loki, Thor's younger brother, even drops by for ten minutes to talk. Loki isn't as bad as Thor, in fact he is almost the exact opposite as Thor was. He is easier to have a conversation with than Thor is, and he isn't rude. He's just an ass at times.

He and Tony were great friends.

After everyone finished their meals and paid for their dinner, they all piled into Bucky's car, with Sam curled up into Clint's lap due to limited space in the his small car. It was a wild ride from start to finish. Bucky put on the music that everyone hated and sang along, while Steve put his head in his hands in attempts to try to stop his laughing. Everyone else sang along after a minute or two, though.

So, there they were. All of them were crammed on Bucky's couch in the basement of his house without much room to spare. Clint was sprawled out, taking up most of the couch. Natasha was next to him, trying to push him away. Sam and Tony were sitting next to each other in the middle, while Steve sat in-between Sam and Bucky.

Sam and Tony were fighting over the popcorn bowl. Bucky was busy yelling at everyone to shut up so that he could hear it at least, Nat was making snide remarks at the movie, Clint was quiet most of the time as paid no attention to the movie, and scratched at one of his several bandages (how they got there, no one knew, and no one asked), and Steve was the only one truly terrified of the movie.

"Guys, can we watch something else?" Steve whimpered, cowering behind Bucky's arm. Bucky immediately tensed up, blushed, and stuttered out a,

"S-Steve?"

Realizing what he had done, Steve quickly pulled away. "I'm sorry, Buck. Do you want me to let go?"

"N-no, It's okay. You just, uh, startled me is all."

"Ah, poor lil' Steve is afraid of the scary monsters." Tony chimed in in a mocking tone.

Natasha glared viciously and slapped him up-side the head. "Leave them alone. It was cute."

Bucky cleared his throat and shifted like he was uncomfortable. "Guys, j-just shut up. It's fine. "

Steve curled up behind Bucky's arm, and shielded himself from the horror of the movie.

"If you care about Steve so much what don't we just do something else?" Tony said, knowing exactly what he was doing.

Silence filled the room, except for the loud scream from the horror movie that continued to play. Bucky stared down Tony, furious with him.

"Shall we play a game?" Natasha eventually said tentatively, wanting to fill the uncomfortable silence.

Still silence.

"Yeah, okay." Bucky practically smirks. "Lets play spin the bottle." He rises, leaving everyone else on the couch staring up at him with their mouths open. He runs into the other room, and returns with an empty coca-cola bottle.

"I was gonna use this for some'n nice, like maybe a flower vase for when I actually land a date, but, hey, this works too." He sits on the hardwood flooring with his legs crossed, and sets the bottle on the floor with the open end pointed away from himself. He shifts, making himself comfortable, and slaps his hands against his knees, showing his enthusiasm for the game. With no sound from anyone in the room, he looks up at everyone on the couch.

"You gonna play or what?"

Everyone else looks at each other unsure of what else to do. Tony was the first one to get up, followed by Steve, Clint, Sam and then Nat.

"But," Tony grinned mischievously, looking at the other players, "we add seven minutes in heaven. And if seven minutes in heaven turns into other things, well…" The others blushed, but nodded, and they all sat in a circle waiting for the dreaded spinning of the bottle.

Bucky smiled cheekily. "Alright, everybody ready?"

"Just spin the goddamn bottle, Buck." Sam says, clearly not wanting to be in the situation he was in.

"Whatever you say, grouchy pants." He mocked. He spun the bottle and around and around it went, while everyone waited in agony for the bottle to land on them. Slowly, the bottle came to a halt on Steve.

Steve can feel his cheeks burn and his chest tighten. He isn't sure if its his asthma flaring up, or the fact that the bottle landed on him. Either way, he still has to go into the closet with Bucky. When Steve manages to take his eyes off the bottle, he looks up across the room, and all eyes are on him. Bucky is looking at him like he had made this huge mistake, that he was just as embarrassed as he was. Steve could see his hands tremble.

C'mon, Steve. Now's your time.

Steve swallows hard, and says with a huge amount of courage. "Yeah, Buck. Let's do this." He stands, his knees shaking under him. Bucky gets up after a second, and nods. Bucky turns away from the circle of his friends, and starts to walk to the closet across the hall. Steve follows him, before thinking better and doubling back to swipe the jar of vaseline. Not sure if they'll need it or not, no reason to have to walk across the hall to get it if they do.

Bucky is already sitting cross-legged when Steve arrives, and he closes the door behind him, letting the darkness close in on them. Steve sets the jar in the corner before sitting down across from Bucky. He can feel Bucky staring down at him, eyes alive and roaming all over, and Steve suddenly feels self-consciousness tighten his throat. Sure, he knows Bucky probably has feelings for him, but its not like he's ever seen him naked. He's not sure this intensity is warranted. He's really not much to look at.

Steve remembers the first time they had met was when he had gotten detention after getting into some stupid fight, and there he was all tattooed with his piercings, doc martens, and his then long hair pulled back into a low ponytail. He was wearing his red Sex Pistols shirt and his spiked leather jacket, fingerless gloves, and black leather pants. Steve couldn't get his eyes off him. He was came off as a punk and for a time was rude, but Steve loved him all the same.

As it turned out, Bucky was really gentle and caring, and adopted kittens and had a three legged dog named Scott. He just really liked the way the clothes made him look.

Steve and Bucky sat together in the dark closet across from each other. They said nothing as time went on, the only sound was the heavy breathing from the both of them. That's when Bucky moved. He moved across the small space, and pressed his lips up against Steve's, only to quickly to pull away in embarrassment. He looked down and waited for Steve's sounds of anger and disgust but they never came. Instead, what Steve did was unexpected. He grabbed his shirt collar, and kissed him back. Bucky reached up, and pulled his head down more onto his, until he got it where he wanted it. He kissed him, gently and sweetly.

They kiss slow, like they've got all the time in the world.

It'd be sweet, if not for the six o clock shadow on buckys face. Those scratch against Steve's lips and cheeks, giving a bite to the kiss. In the back of his mind, Steve tries to calculate just how long he'll be stuck with Bucky's fucking whisker burn all over him.

Bucky breaks the kiss, his hand still resting on Steve. Steve raised his head shakily to meet Bucky's. His eyes looked deeply into his, pool of black widening as he realized what Bucky's stare implied. " Do you...you know... want to?" Bucky drew a sharp breath. Looking at Steve, spread out like this, flushed and gasping, he wanted to do everything. Bucky stared at Steve for a long time, a very long time, unable to say anything. He wasn't-he couldn't- what could he say? He could feel his heart swell in his chest, and his breathing hitch. Unsure of what else to do, he nodded shakily.

Steve removed his glasses and set them aside. Slowly, he moved forward, and pressed his lips to his. It was gentle and tentative at first, then deeper and more desperately, until Bucky pushed Steve back against the wall. He rolled up his sweater past his elbows, and then up past his head, leaving him in his white button down. His fingers started at the top of the shirt, before the started trembling, and Bucky blushed.

"Goddammit, Steve." He breathed, starting to get flustered over the buttons. He moved down button by button with his fingers constantly shaking, until the shirt ripped. He was half way done with the buttons, when he ripped the shirt down the rest of the way.

Steve was covered in small scars and bruises that have sinced healed, or are healing since the previous fights he has gotten himself into. The stitching that Bucky had done in his shoulder when he found him behind the school cafeteria with a black eye and a bleeding shoulder.

Bucky leaned into Steve's neck, sucked a bruise there, and kissed down his chest, making sure every cut was touched. His fingertips ghosted over spots that are still pink and sensitive, and it made Steve's stomach lurch.

"I've got you, Steve. I've got you."

Steve stuck his hands between Bucky's red flannel and white T-shirt, and pulls the flannel off him, and then his shirt, throwing them to where the pile of discarded clothes was. Now, Bucky was something to look at in Steve's eyes. He had a lean, muscular build, and several tattoos that he had gotten over the months. He almost had a complete sleeve on his left arm, one on his lower stomach, and a section on his back that read "I'll be stuck fixated on one star when the world is crashing down." His most defining tattoo, though, was the red star on his left shoulder. He was beautiful.

Bucky leaned back up into Steve's open legs, and they rut slowly against each other as they kissed. Steve rested his hands against Bucky's lower back, and Bucky tensed up. His hands were freezing against his hot skin.

"Are, are you okay?" Steve panted, pulling his lips of Bucky's.

Bucky nodded vigorously, "I'm fine. I'm fine." He grabbed Steve's neck, and pulled him into a deep, messy kiss of teeth, tongue and lips. He kissed a line down Steve's jaw and down his neck, and smiled when he heard Steve whimper. The pressure in his groin was becoming an ache, and he could feel how hard Bucky was getting.

It was no surprise to Steve how fast Bucky had gone hard, while he wasn't. His poor, skinny body never did anything right. Something was always wrong, but Bucky always did right by him. He always made sure he could breath right, and always had a spare inhaler on hand.

Bucky's fingers trailed to Steve's lower stomach, and then down his hips, and looped them into the belt loops of Steve's khakis, and yanked them down along with his boxers. "God, Steve." Bucky murmured, running his hand from the other boy's chest to his stomach. "You're perfect." Crashing his lips onto Steve's, he ran his hand along Steve's thigh, trailing his fingers closer to his erection. Steve grabbed his hand lightly and pushed it away, breaking the kiss and unzipping Bucky's tight pants. Wriggling out of the restrictive material, Bucky growled as Steve ran his hand along his underwear line. Bringing the blond close, he kissed him hard, sucking his lower lip. Steve whimpered again, and Bucky couldn't take much more.

"Flip. Now." He growled, and Steve obeyed.

"Lube's in the corner." Steve whispered, propping self onto his elbows. Taking a little of the clear gel, Bucky sat between Steve's open thighs.

"This is gonna hurt like a bitch." Bucky growled, "But It'll be worth it." Slowly inserting a single finger, Bucky tried to keep his breathing steady as Steve's hitched. His whimpers turned to moans as Bucky started to move, slowly at first, then faster. Slowly adding a second, then third finger, Steve felt like he was about to burst.

"Are you okay?" Bucky asked, slowing down as to not hurt his friend.

"I'm fine." Steve breathed, "fuck me, Buck" And Bucky obliged. Removing his fingers, he placed himself above the blond, and Steve scrunches his face up tight as Bucky sinks into him. "Go slow." Steve says, voice pitched in a way he's never liked it, but does now. Bucky nods and groans and when he straightens himself out, he begins slowly. Steve's moans turned to a cry, and Bucky stopped.

"Steve?" He asked, but the blond shook his head.

"Don't. You. Dare. Stop." He moaned out, as Bucky filled his ass. It hurt, but in a good way, and Steve never wanted it to end. Bucky's unsteady breathing turned into a moan as well, drawing him out long and slow and then pushing back in, listening to the low, agonizing moan from Steve. Bucky placed his hands on the blonds hips, and thrust harder.

"Slow." Steve reminds him. Bucky makes annoyed noise, jerks his hips back just to anger him and Steve laughs around the sharp pain. He comes back in slow, though, and the pace resumes, and - "Fuck."

"Yeah?" Bucky whispers into his neck.

"Yeah." Steve grunts. "Right ,oh, right there."

Bucky's hips start to falter, and he spreads his feet to get better leverage, and digs his fingertips into the blond's hips.

Steve whines low and long, and his breath hitched as Bucky reached down between his legs, and stroked him from base to tip. Every movement Bucky made stroke at least a hint of pleasure down Steve's spine. He bit into his neck, sucking a few bruises across Steve's shoulders as well.

Steve arched into Bucky's grasp, panting as his senses heightened, he could hear each of Bucky's moans and feel his individual fingers clenched around him. He rocked back into him in ecstasy, feeling the familiar tightening in his stomach that signaled his release.

"JAMES!" Steve screamed as his orgasm hit him, with the brunet stroking him until his breathing returned to normal. Flipping over, he straddled Bucky, and kissed him deep and long. "James Buchanan Barnes, I'm in love with you."

"Steven Grant Rogers, if you don't finish me off, I'm not returning your love." Bucky growled, and Steve blushed.

"Buck I've, I've never done this." He stammered, and Bucky kissed him softly.

"I know, Stevie. You'll be okay." Bucky whispered. The blond wrapped his hand uncertainly around the brunets member, and Bucky shook his head.

"Mouth, Steve. Use your mouth." Steve blushed again, and brought his head down to Bucky's member. Running his tongue from the tip to the base, he wrapped his mouth around the erection, humming softly as he moved up and down. the brunet's breaths turned to uneven growls, and Steve cupped his balls with his hand. Grabbing the base of his cock, Steve took Bucky into his mouth, and sucked in his cheeks, looking up with big blue eyes at the other teen. Bucky shaky breaths and moans turned into a fierce growl as he grabbed Steve's head and pushed him down. Taking Bucky fully into his mouth, Steve hummed contentedly as the blond worked up and down, faster and faster, as Bucky thrust himself into Steve's mouth.

"GOD STEVE!" Bucky thrust hard, releasing his orgasm into Steve's mouth. His thrusts slowed as the orgasm ended, and Steve sat up and wiped his mouth. Grabbing the tips of Steve's short hair and pulling him close, Bucky growled, "Swallow." Steve did, and wiped his mouth again, before breaking out into a violent cough. His windpipe feels too small and when he tries to breath in, the air gets stuck before rushing back out in a heavy, body wracking cough. He curls over and keeps coughing, hard and wet and ragged sounding. Every breath he can steal comes in at a wheeze and it hurts.

Bucky responds quickly by grabbing Steve's back-up inhaler, and helps him with it. Steve takes a few breaths with the help of the inhaler, and when he's done, he is still trying to control his coughing.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." Bucky says, worriedly, rubbing his shoulders.

"Ow-" Cough. "Y'should be. I could've-" Cough, cough. "died." He jokes, and Bucky can't help but smile a bit.

"C'mon, my dick wasn't that bad." Steve laughed a little, and bucky gripped steve's shoulder

"Hey, tell you what, next time, we can do it in my room where there isn't any dust, okay?"

Steve nods, still unable to form words with coughs still scraching and tickling his throat.

"We need to clean up a bit before we go back out there." Bucky says, looking for something that they could clean up with, and returns with a rag. Steve cleans himself off, and then Bucky.

"We need to get dressed," Steve whispered, kissing Bucky softly, "And I need gum."

"Why? You're mine and everyone will know it." But he obliged. Handing Steve his shirt, underwear, and pants, he shimmied into his boxers and jeans. Slipping on his shirt, he felt Steve's eyes on him and asked, "What, Stevie?"

"You ripped my shirt. The bottom four buttons burst."

"Wear the sweater." Steve nodded, and slipped on his sweater as Bucky opened the closet door. Steve slipped on his glasses and Bucky helped him up, not bothering to take the lube with them.

"Twelve minutes is longer than seven minutes. I knew it. You two fucked in Buck's closet!" Natasha cried triumphantly as Tony handed her a twenty. Steve blushed, doing his best not to limp. Bucky flopped onto the couch triumphantly, and Steve stood by the back of the chair.

"That's another twenty!" Nat turned to Tony who threw the bill at her before storming out. Seeing Steve and Bucky's confused looks, she said, "Steve won't sit down. I called it." Steve muttered something about a drink of water, and walked off, the opposite direction toward the kitchen.

"So, did you and Tony..." Bucky asked, and Nat laughed.

"Hon, I'm not into that." Nat propped her feet on the table, and grinned, "You guys were fairly quiet. Clint and Sam went upstairs about five minutes after you two did. We heard someone shriek and decided for our sakes not to check on them..." As if on cue, Bucky heard a 'Jesus H. Christ!' followed by a thump, and a door opening. Sam, in his boxers, strolled casually down the stairs and into the kitchen, and walked back upstairs with a belt and duct tape.

"I did NOT need to see that." Bucky covered his eyes as Clint squealed and the door shut. Tony returned with a smile, and turned to Natasha.

"Called Sam's top. Twenty bucks. Now." Nat sighed and handed him a twenty, as Steve returned, gum in mouth.

"Did I miss anything?" He asked leaning back against the couch.

"Nah." Bucky says. "Nothing."

Steve nods silently, and pushes his glasses back up his nose. "Do you guys mind if we watch In The Flesh?"

"Sure." Nat says getting up. She crosses the room and turns on the T.V After a few minutes of channel surfing, In The Flesh was playing. Everyone sat back (except Steve who continued to stand for a few more minutes before sitting with Bucky) and enjoyed a good portion of an episode, but not even Bucky's small TV could drown the sound of Clint's muffled screams.

As Sam opened the door, everyone shot their heads up toward him, as Clint came in walking behind him. Sam held his head high, triumph, and proud of what he had done. Clint had a smug little smile on his face like he always had, like he always had a secret to tell.

"How was it?" Tony asks, trying to make them as uncomfortable as he could make them.

"Hm?" Clint asks, turning his head to Steve. Clint, like Steve, was mostly deaf and couldn't hear people call his name from even a close distance.

"He asked how it was." Nat says for Tony, a little louder so that her friend could hear.

"Fine." Clint nods, "Just fine." He remains standing as Sam lowers himself onto the couch between Steve and Tony.

"Your upper lip is waxed," Nat commented, and Clint just stared into the distance.

"You should see my legs and wrists." He said absentmindedly, and tony almost choked on his drink.

"So, uh." Bucky begins. He clears his throat and shifts a bit before continuing. "Where did you do it?"

"Your room." Sam admits. "You have really nice bed sheets."

Bucky stands, clenching his fists at his side. "You didn't." He says through clenched teeth, his face scrunched up in a fury that has only been seen that time when Loki snapped a string on his red Fender.

Sam laughs, slapping his knee, and Bucky's face scrunched more in confusion. "I'm joking. It was in your spare room."

"Yeah, it fucking better have been in the spare room." He says still furious with him. He stares him down for a few minutes more, before Steve tugs on his sleeve. Bucky looks down at him, and see's Steve staring back at him with those big blue eyes, that are made bigger because of his glasses, and says,

"Alright, Buck. Leave him alone."

Bucky sighed, and let his shoulders drop as the anger seemed to seep off him. He plops back next to Steve, and pulls out his pack of cigarettes that are sitting in his chest pocket. He doesn't smoke anymore, and hasn't since he met Steve on that chance encounter in detention. Steve was the only one to stand up to him, and ask him to stop smoking. Bucky didn't comply at first, but was rude and insensitive. However, after a few minutes of his fun with Steve and him telling Bucky he had asthma, he stopped. Now, he only keeps them for the aesthetic appeal.

He takes one between his fingers, and flips it around as he watched the show play on. By twelve, Steve had curled up around Bucky, his head in his lovers lap and his knees touching his chest. He wasn't sleeping, though, just kept his eyes close, and leaned into Bucky's touch like some needy cat. Bucky is more than willing to run his hand through his short hair."Are any of you guys still hungry? Clint asks rising from his seat to get a look at everyone in the room.

"Uh, theres pizza in the fridge." Bucky answers.

"No, no, no. I don't want pizza. I want pancakes. Lots of pancakes."

Bucky groans. He picks up Steve's head so he can get off the couch, and fixes his pants so there better fitting around his hips.

"C'mon." He grabs Clint by the arms and leads him back into the kitchen to help make breakfast. Eventually as time went on, though, everyone else started to filter into the room to help contribute. Clint made pancakes, Steve made eggs, Nat made the bacon and Sausage, and Bucky and Sam made the cinnamon rolls.

Bucky's kitchen was a mess. The pots and pans were piled high in the sink; the stove was covered in splotches of eggs, batter, and grease that wouldn't be so easily cleaned with a few swipes of a rag. Clint had managed to get pancake batter in his hair and in Bucky's. Someone forgot about the boiling eggs, too and twenty or so minutes into their early breakfast, they all heard a loud pop coming from the Stove, making everyone but Clint jump. He was too occupied with his chocolate pancakes to notice. When he saw everyone jump, he looked around him and saw nothing that caught his attention. He yawned and took another bite of the eggs on toast.

As it turned out, Steve had forgotten about the eggs, and he cleaned all the egg splatter off the ceiling and walls. Everything was good, and mellow the rest of that night as they all fell asleep in Bucky's basement to The Office.


End file.
